Strange Currencies: A Podcast For Songwriters

Chimney The autumn twilight The masquerade The days move forward Thoughtless cadets on parade Do I feel more afraid? Than what I used to be? Of being somebody, or nobody A fading glint Took me for a walk I buttoned my coat Though you wanted to talk With your dissolvable salt I know you didn’t mean to You’re just telling the truth The faces of strangers The indifference of a moment A neighborhood renting Because they can’t own it With their inevitable sin The motorcyclist makes a delivery Beside the lawn with a smoking chimney Chimney, has a memory Of the way things were supposed to be Chimney, lighting up in the dying heat With almond eyes set beside crow’s feet The evening animates In sashaying wind It could be leading me further out Or right back in To yesterday’s hobgoblin Everyone’s smarter than me Monuments to efficiency And I’m walking in a circle To find my way home Dimming those palaces in my mind Where the light relentlessly shone Upon pillars of stone Cr

Verona Revisited I was thinking about a summer moon I was remembering the bomb in Times Square I was recalling that when I was with you I didn’t really care I was ransoming your promise I was planning out our life I never stopped to ask myself If you wanted to be my wife Bought time With a rhyme Never even tasted Your lips upon mine Swore I was fine Drinking the world But a guy can get tangled When he falls in love with a girl Those days are long ago And the city doesn’t feel the same As when I was brand-new with you Like I never had a name The bench between the avenues The movie theater underground The way you made me go in search Of some divine, secret sound Chorus Would I sound ridiculous? To admit I pictured you with gray hair Was I mistaken when I concluded You never gave a damn Hey, we were young And things get messy Deep down I knew you were Too busy to miss me Chorus Well, what could be more romantic? Two city kids in love? In the first summer of a new de

Winding Down So vast This Expanse The moon surface Of my mind Lamp-light frames the snow And we go Deeper into that gentle night Which is blind to the past The roles we’ve been cast The dreams that have been denied Chorus: Winding down The lights flicker in town Then they die They die They die I have no illusions I’m paid to entertain the delusions Of the hierarchies and their disaffected Sons Conditioned to think creative work Represents a nobler birth In our country of bibles and guns But I’m hardly cynical In fact, I’m quite equivocal About my replenishing of funds Chorus And your eyes are a respite Though we may fight About what you call my Callous attitude We have our bench and pond The graceful sense of being beyond Each other’s disappointment or gratitude Yet you feel so acutely my fear That I had a life that disappeared Like a flight lost at cruising altitude Chorus From where does this bitterness come? You live a dream, that’s supposed to be freedom I

Discussing another wonderful Bob Dylan performance at Jones Beach and the travails of a completely disappointing, befuddling Yankees team.

Halloween Well, they said this one’s serious And not to go outside and smoke I figured my mother wasn’t delirious So I took note Hunkered alone in the basement Watching Season 5 of Mad Men I called to make sure you were aware And to feel like you still were a friend You sounded agitated And staticky on the line I said, you didn’t let that stupid bastard Talk you into giving him a ride Chorus There’s always tomorrow Until there isn’t There’s always the light of lightening in a storm There’s always tomorrow until there isn’t I will love you Forevermore Now the tempest seemed to be touching down My mother shouted downstairs, “some maniacs are staying in the casino.” She added its coming fast And asked about that, “girl you know.” If I’d known we’d split I’d have never introduced you to my mom If she knew you revenge cheated She might not care if you were harmed But it gave me another twinge thinking about the beginning You drove me wild when you laughed fluttering your eyelids T

Burnt Leaves You never ask me to come over When you sit at the end of the bar With a look on your face Like you’re watching the implosion of a star Was it another audition Where the casting director led you on? Now you’re looking to score So we can discuss the golden era past the break of dawn I never tell you that you’re too temperamental For such a brutal line of work That your kindness would be better served As a teacher or a nurse Nor that your breakdowns amuse me For I have seen so much worse Beautiful minds who could have defined the times Lost because they got sick first Chorus Burnt leaves Scatter at my feet They’ll disappear down a gutter And life is never that neat I feel This forgotten cemetery inside me And for the grace of an unknown God I’d sleep forever beneath a white sheet Once or twice, you’ve asked outright Why I give a damn about you Another anonymous Midwest actress Probably only passing through I never reveal My habit for survival has left me alone That

An update on a Yankees season that has gone off the rails.

Fall is Falling It seemed like a good idea She was 23 with a book deal Aren’t some fantasies allowed to be real? The exceptional ideal Chorus: Though I really hoped it We are not the same Fall is falling You’re not calling my name My friends said i miscalculated I thought they were sexually frustrated We all might have necks and backs aggravated But that shouldn’t mean a life of hesitation Chorus My ex-wife called her a gold-digger And was appalled she was younger than their babysitter Asked, ‘when she’s sitting on your lap, what nonsense does she whisper?’ I told my therapist, ‘see, this is why I don’t miss her.’ Chorus It was all so wonderful in the beginning Your lips reminded me I hadn’t been living When they stared at restaurants, you’d just be grinning I’d think to myself, ‘these jealous pricks hate that I’m winning.’ Chorus But the slightest thing can cause severe tension You felt betrayed when I wouldn’t make an investment In your mental patient friend’s latest invention

The Logic of His Wings He spent the night Thinking about Madonna While restless In his bed During many of his Waking hours He acted out the dreams In his head Of being a baseball star A wrestler An action hero without a face The world was moving so Frantically around him He couldn’t keep Pace Beauty everywhere Beauty nowhere Beauty in the shadow Of a pigeon At the park Beauty everywhere Beauty nowhere His beautiful house Was falling apart The hope of what a new day brings The logic of his wings Inject adrenaline into a broken heart And fly, triumphantly Toward a dying star A little brown wallet Full of grandma’s money And a bike ride To the candy store A Butterfinger, a videogame magazine Were everything he can afford The bright colors Of dreamlands Constructed in cubicles Were the brilliant backgrounds Above the orchestra For a middle-class American Musical Beauty everywhere Beauty nowhere Beauty in those sirens Wailing in the Dark Beauty everywhere, beaut

Freedom Tower This city used to be Lit by torchlight Dusk has fallen Deep I am caught between Cohabitating realities And unsure which dream I get to keep They finished the Freedom Tower My uncle said “They should have rebuilt it the same.” On the avenues paper men make an indifferent show Of disintegrating in the rain Chorus: I was the toast of Greenwich Village For about two minutes, once Glory was the price of tuition I wrote a book about alcoholic doves It was an elevated position A better view to look down at us I was supposed to learn a lesson But I keep forgetting what it was The romanticists loathe These bright corners Because they preferred privacy While watching my friend die They bloviate about Complicity And drink holy water From each other’s pierced sides Such is life In the unfolding parable I chase money to treat Such deep resentment I stroll these angular Blocks alone Like an ink-less pen Scratching the pavement Chorus The future

Letter to My Double returns with our first episode about the 2025 Yankees!

Glittering How did we ever get in this party? They must have thought we were the help The mid-June moon Over the World Trade Tomb I don’t want to leave this rooftop With anyone else The host is a rich old bachelor Loves what I paint Your platinum hair Is like permission to stare You say, considering the three thousand churches In this town there are precious few saints Chorus: And it is summer next week If I could have remembered to speak I would invite you to Coney Island Not easy surviving In a city where indifference Is often the closest thing to kindness I’m just wondering If you are also pretending Not sure I deserve a happy ending Glittering, glittering We were glittering They warned me it all ends Embittering Yet I swore it wouldn’t happen to us Flickering lighting Down the complex stairwell And you made a joke About us being murdered Then your brother got ashes Caught in his sunglasses At that point your attitude became Quite a bit sterner You accused me

Equinox The sun slipped through A gray cloud And illuminated the scene The town hummed In sudden thrall As if stirred from winter’s dream The sidewalk seized By children spilling Recklessly into the street You stood beside The blue mailbox Where we’d agreed to meet Equinox, equinox Has returned to life Everything you forgot Equinox, equinox All your old hopes You stored away in a box Equinox, equinox Provides the strength to lift Those ideals you long ago dropped The April sky Seems pastel painted Onto the lenses before your eyes We talked about the government, the Internet And you wondered when I’d ever Realize You said, ‘the only hope is the Present moment, cyclical and Interpersonal.’ We never related About interfacing And my depression was Non-negotiable Chorus On the aching boulevard It made too much sense To tell each other Goodbye Not sure what you wanted by meeting We didn’t click, I never thought You needed to apologize But before we parted You off

New York Summer Live And forgive It’s New York summer Grieve Don’t leave It’s New York Summer Fly But don’t die Lest faith be torn asunder Survive And thrive It’s New York Summer The policemen And drug dealers Are serenading you The Yankees and The Homeless Want to rendezvous On River Avenue Its New York Summer Cry Don’t simply sigh Its New York summer Sweat For respect Its New York summer Never look Remotely shook While visiting your mother Sizzling pavement scenes Big money dreams Its New York summer The actress and Prostitute Want to interrogate you The Mets And the Tourists Wouldn’t know what to do If they had to rescue you Its New York Summer

Lyrics by Matt Waters and Zara Adam-Waters I never think of you Except when I hear “greed is good,” It takes me back To what I misunderstood The way you looked every night Like you could never fail You always hated the ending When the villain went to jail I couldn’t help stalling in love Despite your disarming charm I almost sold my dreams To be the one on your arm Would it be a love song If we found a way through Would it have been so wrong? To have forgiven you Would it be a love song If there hadn’t been an ending If instead of breaking We spent the rest of our lives bending Oh, oh, oh, time is time Oh, oh, oh, one hour goes by Oh, oh, oh, not like one of us died Oh, oh, oh, they say its part of life The way days accumulate With only a top and bottom My heart ices over As each summer gets hotter But smoke got in your lies And the market collapsed You got bitter, quiet Your worst habits relapsed I couldn’t crawl the line I couldn’t be your bohemian doll It feels l

I Know Better Ice cold morning A hole in my shoe I have to make some money To afford fast food It is raining razor blades But I’m in a good mood Everyone gets lucky sometimes I’m about due People bleed in different places diamond-shaped cuts in their faces Gashes on their elbows and knees Turn to ice-sealed scabs at 11 degrees I know better To be undermined by bad weather You shouldn’t be swayed By the well-meaning brigade Who want reality quarantined In their living room I don’t like parties I do like you Blistering summer evening The concrete undulates I’m strolling the neighborhood Off the 3 AM train The moon is an empty plate My mind and body are plagued By the realization of wherever I go My malady refracts in new array Everyone has the right advice I’m unemployed, they’re Jesus Christ Preaching a sermon of responsibility to me Because I’m on an indefinite vacation after my bachelor’s degree I know better To be undermined by bad weather You shouldn’t be swayed By the well-meaning brigad

Island of Broken Boys This piece of plastic Is fantastic Accompanies me Through the sullen snow Our future recedes It was once orgiastic Now I practice Forgetting what I know The chief of police Held a press conference I watched it through the Window of a bar Where a faceless man Stirred a gin and tonic Watched a commercial With a pretty, singing star Jammed a cold hand in my overcoat And I continued onward The masses seem disillusioned With hope Now they’re starting To talk a bit tougher Chorus: And if you could fix This brokenness There’d be no reason to love you So my salvation Is a fabrication I refuse to invest in And if I could soothe Your Jazz Age blues You’d have no reason to need me So your depression Is actually an obsession With the theory of original sin ………………….. My screen feeds Endless imagery A repository for the Past It provides no epiphany But keeps me company Like a looping late-night News broadcast I’m notified To my surprise

Performing my song ‘Luck & Love’ on the West Side of Manhattan.

These Psychic Fields From the hotel window The city is a kaleidoscope Of blurred light In the bedroom mirror You voice your positive affirmation Once, and then twice The nightstand offers A torn pack of baseball cards And an empty bottle of Sapporo You watch another Twilight Zone Incredulous at the idea There’s two hours until tomorrow These psychic fields That connect you & me It has to be real Our gap in notoriety You feel like you are no one Not even worth the Strings I strum In the lounge there is a locker Left abandoned Tagged with graffiti Everyday you see a skull exploding While dining on your And memory There was a moment of momentum And then all the good luck Abruptly stopped They considered you for the picture Which was tinted and angled And you were unfortunately cropped Chorus You think about my life How you’d love to live in music And sleep on a tour bus You have one of mine Stuck in your head Specifically the chorus You daydream of wearing A le

Talking all things Yankees hot stove in late November!